


Sway

by Alethia



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Consent Issues, Demon Sex, F/M, Hunters & Hunting, Succubi & Incubi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-02-18
Updated: 2008-02-18
Packaged: 2018-01-11 02:44:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1167704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alethia/pseuds/Alethia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ruby nibbled on his neck, fingers still moving in aching, tiny circles. "Look at you: ready to drop to your knees and <i>beg</i> after a succubus rubs herself all over you. Smart money would have <i>them</i> leading the war."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sway

**Author's Note:**

> Set somewhere in season 3, with the Ruby played by Katie Cassidy. Includes all the consent issues inherent in demonic possession. Originally posted on LJ [here](http://alethialia.livejournal.com/289898.html).

"You take the succubus," Dean said. He hefted his knife and looked for all the world like he enjoyed the prospect of hunting an incubus in a labyrinthine warehouse at midnight.

"Bad plan," Sam said immediately. "We should stick together. Splitting up only makes us more vulnerable to their sway."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Which is why I'm going after the dude. Tripods don't interest me, man. And you haven't looked at anything in, like, a thousand years, so I think we're good."

"Dean, it doesn't work like—" 

"Blah blah, can't hear you," he said, practically skipping the way the incubus had gone.

"Fine, but when an incubus tries to steal your virtue tonight, don't yell for me," Sam called. And got no response. "And I am talking to myself," he grumbled. Fantastic.

He turned the other way and headed off after the succubus. Maybe if he got done early enough he could go save that virtue, if such a thing existed. Or something.

***

Sam weaved his way through the cold metal pallet racks in the chilly night air. He could hear muffled curses from somewhere far-off, which got further the more he moved into the bowels of the building. He seriously hoped that was the sound of Dean fighting instead of...the other things he could be doing with an incubus.

But Dean could handle himself and it wasn't like he was yelling for help or anything. So, right. Succubus. Lithe, nubile little thing with long, dark hair. Sam knew the beauty was illusory...but these things had lasted through the ages for a _reason_. 

Muted laughter drew him up short. High, female, like the tinkling of wind chimes from a well-worn memory. Or fantasy. God, he was _already_ half-hard. This was so gonna suck.

He turned and walked toward the sound, peering around a 20-foot-high rack of crates—

Only to find absolutely nothing but a cracked, swinging light bulb.

The laughter sounded again, closer this time, and moving. Sam dogged it, turned right, left, then went straight down the aisle made by two mammoth rows of wood and steel. It seemed like the succubus had decided it wanted to play a little game with Sam, which was all well and good but he really just wanted to ice the damn thing already. And go jerk off. Or save Dean and _then_ jerk off.

He rounded the next corner—

And stopped short. Sam blinked. Then again. And...nope. The image just did not compute. 

He was prepared for temptation. He was prepared for a naked woman and her beguiling ways. He was _not_ prepared for one scantily-clad woman tangled up in another, both of them ignoring him completely. The sight stopped him short, stole his breath, and instantly got him fully hard. 

Sam was not _prepared_ to watch a blonde being teased, wearing nothing but a tank top and lacy thong. A very hot blonde. A very willing, hot blonde.

A very _familiar_ blonde.

Fuck.

Sharp, red nails teased up Ruby's back, pushed fabric from skin, and Ruby shivered. Her fingers grasped and pulled and the succubus' shirt inched even lower, baring still more cleavage. Sam shook his head to clear the fog of the succubus' call. He shouldn't look directly at her. It intensified the effect and made it more likely he'd fall under her sway.

He'd just...work on not looking. Some other time, maybe.

Ruby was apparently lost to it. Some primal part of Sam's brain appreciated that, had no problem, in fact, with two scorching hot chicks trying to devour one another while he watched. Sam did his best to ignore that part. The fact that it was Ruby helped, so he focused on her. He could actually see her tongue as she plunged it into the succubus' mouth.

The world faded again and Sam's senses went a bit fuzzy. All except the image; that was pretty damn clear. And still it did not compute. Not at all.

The next hitch in her breathing had Ruby breaking the kiss, the succubus latching onto her bottom lip and _biting_. Ruby tilted her chin back, like she couldn't help herself, and then looked over at him.

Her eyes narrowed.

Right. He should be...doing something about the evil, soul-sucking, incredibly hot chick-on-chick action over there. He squashed the voice blabbering in his head about how very wrong, wrong, _wrong_ it would be to do anything other than rub up against them until they all had fantastic orgasms. That really wasn't helping.

Sam reached for the knife carefully stashed at the small of his back. But then he might have gotten a little distracted with the way the succubus' hand stroked down Ruby's side and then in between them. Ruby gasped and her head fell back, this time honestly.

As if Sam had made the sound, the dark-haired woman—succubus, his mind reminded him—glanced over at him as she ran her tongue along Ruby's jaw. A small smile and crooked finger seemed connected directly with his legs (and dick) because Sam was suddenly moving closer and _he_ hadn't consciously made that decision. 

"Come play with us," she breathed/whispered/rasped/whatever. Hell, she probably _thought_ it directly into his brain and he wouldn't find that at all odd because wow, all he really wanted to do was fuck them both blind.

Resist her sway, that was what the situation called for. But with her fingers already sneaking up his shirt and the warmth of her settling against him—not to mention the heat of Ruby at his back—Sam couldn't really remember how to do that.

"Uhh, I'd love to, but—" 

And then he forgot what was so important anyway, not when he was being kissed like being devoured, when it stole into his mind and turned all his thoughts to an aching, agony of pleasure. He wanted to be inside her, fuck them both into oblivion, he wanted to get down on his knees and _beg_.

Sam tangled his tongue with hers, shoved a hand in her hair and tugged at dark strands. Another set of hands trailed down his back, up under his shirt there, then down to grip his hips. Not randomly, though. Purposeful. There was something important about that—

The succubus' sudden gasp into his mouth was the furthest thing from pleasure. 

It was a shocked exhalation and oh, how Sam could relate. His chest heaved as he tried to get control of himself. He looked down and saw the silver knife plunged into her chest. His silver knife. She didn't bleed at all, but that didn't matter, not with what was on that knife.

Ruby was still warm at his back. She rested her head on his shoulder, arms wrapped around him, like she was watching a show and he was a particularly good pillow.

Mouth still open, the succubus dropped to her knees, then crumpled. Her skin started to melt. No body to take care of; the evidence would melt away by first light.

Even at such a lovely sight Sam was still hard as fucking diamond-encrusted titanium. Aww, hell.

"Fuck," he breathed.

Ruby laughed, all warm and soft behind him. Fuck.

Sam looked down and breathed in deep, trying to find that place where it would all be peaceful again. Instead of sex-drenched and loaded with possibility.

Ruby laughed at him some more, breath puffing against his neck and sensitizing already flushed skin. "Need a hand?"

"Having a good time?" Sam countered. His voice was low and gravelly and practically oozed sex.

"You have no idea. You should have seen the look on your face. No control whatsoever."

A note of defensiveness creeped into his voice: "I didn't expect...that." And he was still hard enough that rational thought was, well, hard.

"Weak. I'd heard different about Winchester boys. Though on the other hand..."

"That doesn't sound good," he muttered as she shifted against him.

Ruby's hands settled on his stomach, this time with intent. The heat bled through Sam's shirt. "You never answered my question," she murmured against his back.

Her hands started moving south. Sam quickly pressed them against his stomach, immobile. But he didn't step away. "And what was that?" he asked.

"Need a hand?" she asked directly into his ear, all dirty and husky and _hot_. It sent a jolt of lust through him, straight to his cock. 'Cause he needed more of that what with the way he was hanging by a tenuous thread of control and all it needed to snap was Ruby pressing—

Sam made a soft sound, lost his grounding for just a second, and—

Her hand on his cock, through his jeans, made things a bit desperate. Sam bit back his moan and forced himself _not_ to grind into that hand, despite what his body was screaming for him to do, despite how holding back made his fists clench.

"What—the—fuck," he gasped. His muscles shivered with the force of holding himself still.

Ruby nibbled on his neck, fingers still moving in aching, tiny circles. "Look at you: ready to drop to your knees and _beg_ after a succubus rubs herself all over you. Smart money would have _them_ leading the war."

Sam tensed, turned, and pushed her back blindly. Ruby fell against a plastic-wrapped crate. Sam would have winced...except it wasn't like she felt it.

"Ooh, touchy," she mocked. She managed to seem like it was her choice to lounge across the container. In an industrial warehouse. In her underwear. At midnight. 

So like Dean, in some ways.

Also, her nipples were hard and pebbled through the white tank she wore...which did not help Sam at _all_.

"Don't joke about that crap," Sam said roughly. He tried to pull himself back together. It wasn't working so well.

Ruby pushed herself off and got up in his face, as much as she could with no shoes and no clothes to speak of. And yet she still came off as nothing but intimidating. "What? The war? Or someone rubbing herself all over you?"

Sam could feel her heat again, through layers of clothes, and he was still so hard and she was laughing in her head, he just knew it. "You know what I mean," he said, short. It was possible _he_ didn't know what he meant...but following an argument was just a tad difficult at the moment.

"What's the matter, Sam? Been a while?" Ruby fluttered her eyelashes at him and closed the miniscule distance between them. She settled into him, rubbed her thigh against him just _perfectly_ —

Sam's groan was loud and long and he didn't remember his head falling back, but Ruby was nipping at his Adam's apple, so it must have happened at some point.

"This is so fucked up," he said to the world.

Her fingers pulled his shirt down so she could lick messily over a collarbone. Despite himself, his hands went around her waist, fingers stroked the skin there once. 

The grip on his shirt tightened and Sam felt threads snapping. Her hands were shaking.

"You're affected, too," he breathed. Then laughed. It was so perfect.

"Shut it," she said. She bit his neck for good measure. 

"Never thought I'd see the day. Badass Ruby, the girl who's always in control. Don't tell me you're losing your edge."

She snorted and the air puffed against his skin. "Not likely." Her hands gripped his shoulders, a kind of pleasure/pain that Sam didn't want to analyze too closely.

And that was, well, kind of ignoring the obvious. Sam pressed her back, walked with her step by step until she was pinned against the crate she'd hit earlier.

"Oh, yeah? Then why are you all over me right now? Because I'm the poor human; I have an excuse." Sam took a gamble, reached a hand in between them and pressed his fingers against her wet panties. "But _you_. You're a demon: always in control, all-knowing, unfeeling. You shouldn't have felt a thing."

Ruby bucked up, the movement the hottest kind of goad. It even looked uncontrollable. God, every part of himself _wanted_ —to be inside her, to find a splinter in her armor, to get one up on her. Something.

He moved his fingers around her panties and pressed them _in_. He found slick heat and no resistance at all. Ruby gasped. 

And didn't say anything.

"Nothing to say? That'd be a first." And Sam knew he was being harsh—harsh and aggressive and _out of control_ —and he'd be horrified at himself later, he was sure. Right now? Couldn't much care.

He twisted his fingers and she gasped again, shivered. And finally gave in: "I retreated to the background, let her feel the human instead," she said softly.

Huh. The succubus should have felt the demon inside the human, but apparently Ruby had more control over her host body than Sam had thought. There went his vague idea of a newfangled bloodhound.

Sam quirked his fingers and used his thumb to trace lightly over her clit. "And you still felt her call. It got to you, too."

"This _body_ did," she protested. It got lost with the way she was trying to get more of his hand, though. "Needed— _yes_ , do that—needed a distraction. To get close. Wouldn't have ha—had to if I knew you were," she gasped, "coming."

Sam chuckled at her reaction, at the tiny circles her hips were making, at the way her body— _the_ body—begged for more, of its own volition. And oh, how he _wanted_ to give it to her, ached with it.

Ruby's eyes narrowed. She wedged herself back on the crate and then her legs locked around his hips. She pulled him closer and another shudder ran through him. His cock was so hard it hurt, strained in his jeans, and not helped by the way he was pressed into her and the crate he'd thrown her against.

"Having a good time?" She growled out the question like a curse, but she was still bucking in his grasp and swallowing little mewls before they became full-blown moans.

Sam pulled his fingers out—and at that she _did_ moan.

Enough of this. He got what he needed to know. And no matter how much his brain wanted inside, inside, _inside,_ he wasn't about to screw around with her. He moved to go—

But she'd wrapped her legs around him and she _was_ a demon, super-strength and all. Sam tried again to pull away...and couldn't.

She tilted her head and the thought floated through his mind—not quite human. Times like these he could _see_ it. "What, just gonna leave? Not very sportsmanlike of you," she said.

"This is not a game," he said tightly. He ignored how his cock jerked when she pressed him harder against her.

"Doesn't mean you can't enjoy it. That you can't take what you want."

"Some of us don't take what isn't offered freely. And I don't want you."

Ruby laughed and leaned up. She pressed her hand to the front of his jeans and Sam's breath whooshed out, eyes closed with the force of the heat that shot through him. 

"Don't want me? You're a hypocrite, Sam. You were just fine feeling me up to get the information you wanted. So why not be consistent and fuck my brains out already?"

With that she popped the button on his jeans and made sure to run the back of her hand along his length as she unzipped him.

Sam sucked in a couple cold, ragged breaths and tried to remember what exactly they were talking about. Hypocrisy, feeling her up, fucking her brains out—

Her hand in his boxers, teasing along him, igniting fire behind his eyes, made him groan aloud.

He got his hands on either side of her hips and braced himself. There was something nagging at him, something—

Taking. And this was _Ruby_.

"Stop."

Her eyes met his as she pulled his dick out into the open air. "No."

Sam gasped and shook his head. "This body—she's still a human being, Ruby."

"Who'd love it if you'd get inside her already. Unless you'd like to have a philosophical conversation first." Her hand moved over him steadily. His thoughts kept slipping away.

"No," Sam said, totally appalled and sure on the first, at least.

Ruby had the gall to roll her eyes. "Guess it's the philosophical conversation, then."

He gritted his teeth. "I'm not about to hurt her."

"I'm not about to let you. I could have dumped this body anywhere I wanted. But see, she and I? We kinda get on together. So be a dear and just fuck us already." 

And then she squeezed and Sam felt it everywhere—down his spine, at the soles of his feet, in his dick. He sucked in a breath and was lost.

Ruby snapped her panties, positioned him, and used her heels to guide him inside her.

She flung her head back, arched her hips, and moaned long and low. Sam echoed her and closed his eyes at the feel of the heat and wet and _tight_ around him. Reluctance slipped away. God, it had been too long.

He stilled when he'd pushed fully inside, feeling his heart pound in his ears in time with the pleasure pulsing through him. Ruby writhed under him, trying to push him further or get more, even as he wouldn't give her a damn thing.

"Please," she finally whispered, almost torn from her throat.

He did. He pulled out and then snapped his hips forward. Ruby groaned "yes" and he did it again and again until he lost count and it became a pounding rhythm, a mix of her moans and his grunts. He bit at hard nipples through her thin shirt. She dug her heels into his lower back. And if she wanted to play like that...

The first kiss was more like a shared breath. Sam's mouth stayed over hers as she sucked in shocked air. But then his tongue was in her mouth and her hands were in his hair and she was pulling him closer, closer, just like her legs were urging his cock in deeper.

Sam explored her mouth, in and around, down to her neck and back up again. He met her tongue with his own, tasted her moans, and let her feel what it was like to lose oneself in this.

She was shaking by the time he was done kissing her mouth. He was shaking with the force of holding himself back. 

Climax itched at his vision, something so close he could almost taste. He reached between them again and played with her, alternating soft circles with a hard press every now and then. 

"Oh, fuck," she groaned, breathless. Her hips bucked as she tightened around him and Sam's world went dark, then a brilliant wash of every color imaginable as he shuddered out pleasure more intense than his hand could ever give. 

After quiet moments figuring out if his fingers and toes were still there, breathing shot, Sam lifted off her. He hissed as he pulled out, still so sensitive, and Ruby mewled.

Fuck. _Fuck_. 

What was _wrong_ with him? 

Sam, shaking, pulled his clothes back into place. He didn't want to look at her, but found he couldn't resist.

Ruby had let her head fall toward him and watched, saw everything. "Weak," she said again. 

Sam wouldn't engage her on that one. He couldn't necessarily disagree, though not for the same reasons.

"Least I'm not the demon who let another demon get her all riled up," he said instead. Because he could do that—push it away, put it on her, make it a joke.

Ruby actually smiled and it was almost wistful, nothing Sam had seen on her before. "I...remembered. What it felt like."

Sam stilled and frowned. "Wait, what?"

Ruby blinked and her expression closed off. "Nothing. Forget it. Find my pants, would you? She threw them around here somewhere." And totally unselfconscious of her almost-nudity she pushed herself off the crate and began hunting around for her clothes.

***

Dean jogged up to him, twirling the knife and whistling.

Sam shook himself and half-raised an eyebrow. It was expected. "Have fun?"

"Little bro, there is nothing more satisfying than a job well done." But he tugged at his collar, then tried to cover with a hand over his neck—which would still have been a tell—

Sam reached over and tugged at that same collar. He blinked a few times as he tried to process just what that red mark meant.

"Hey! Get off me, man," Dean said defensively. He batted Sam's hand away...but he couldn't get rid of the memory.

"You have a bite mark on your neck," Sam said in dawning horror. Better to think about that than—

"So do you."

Sam reached up and touched his, from when Ruby had bitten him, before—"But...incubi are male," Sam tried again.

Dean waved airily. "Dunno what you're talking about."

"Right, let's just—"

"Forget it ever happened? I'm so with you, bro." If only it was that easy.

They stood blinking at each other. Dean fidgeted for a beat. 

Finally, he couldn't seem to contain himself. "It tried to work its mojo on me, man. I'm gonna have nightmares. I need to bleach my brain," Dean declared.

Sam made a noncommittal noise, still having trouble with the processing and the, just, _reality_ of tonight. Dean took this for agreement and kept on going.

"Who the hell knew it was even gonna try it on a guy? This wouldn't have happened in the Dark Ages."

His head was still pounding and his dick throbbing in beat and horror wasn't fading at all, but Sam somehow found it in him to smile. Dean sounded so _offended_.

"You never know. The modern world is so flexible. And you are a pretty-boy."

"Take that back. And I am not flexible," Dean grunted.

Sam grinned, small.

Dean flailed a hand. "I mean, I am flexible. Physically flexible. Like, I can—you know what I mean," he finished.

Sam made the noncommittal noise again. This time Dean just glared.

"Fine. You suck. I'm going to find someone who'll be nicer to me," he proclaimed and shrugged on his jacket.

"Maybe you could announce you're flexible," Sam offered.

"Yeah, I officially hate you." 

Well. That made two of them.

***

Fin. Feedback is adored.


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